Ruminations
by FrozenCrocus
Summary: 1 day post Justice. The crew of the Destiny reflects on Rush’s loss. Rated T for mildly offensive language that will occur in future chapters
1. Eli Wallace

Author's Note:

_I've done lots of fanfic, but this is the first one I've posted for others to read. Reviews are welcome, but please be gentle with criticism._

_FREQUENCY: I already have __**7**__ chapters completed and intend to post each following chapter every 2 days. Stay tuned._

_CONCEPT: Herein, I explore each character's perspective regarding Rush's death/abandonment (depending on POV). Each chapter will be about 1000 words in length and will focus on a single character's POV. Each chapter will bring forth the character for the following chapter. Think of it as a continual camera that never pans off the current action. Let's see how many characters I can cover._

_DISCLAIMER: The characters, the ship, and everything depicted within are the property of their creators and the various producers of SGU. No copyright infringement is intended._

Chapter 1: Eli Wallace

Everyone knew Rush and Young did not see eye to eye. Most even guessed how deeply they resented each other. Only Eli knew what was on the kino footage that Rush had so ineffectively deleted. And Eli was no fool.

Eli wracked his brain trying to figure out why it had been so easy to recover the deleted video feed from the kino. Rush was far smarter than he was about such things – well, about everything. It had to be a test. Everything was. It was meant to be a test of his loyalty. Rush had meant for Eli to recover the information. What he did with it then, was entirely his decision. And Eli had given it to Young.

It had seemed wrong for Rush to take the gun from Spencer's quarters and hide it in the vent above Young's bed. It had seemed wrong for Rush to attempt to delete the footage. So, Eli had followed his own sense of justice and turned him in. He felt something was wrong when the colonel had decided not to show the full footage to Camile. There was an irk in his sense of morality when the colonel had asked him to lie. But he did as he was ordered, said the rest of the information on the kino was corrupt. _Who could have done this? _Wray had asked. _Any one of a dozen _people said Scott, believing Eli's lie. Why shouldn't he? Eli had never lied before. _ Or more _he'd answered_._ Another lie. These past months were not turning him into someone he wanted to be.

When Colonel Young exited the event horizon of the stargate without Dr. Rush, Eli guessed what had happened. In his pursuit of justice, Eli had inadvertently condemned Rush. He'd never dreamed to be caught in a Mad Max plotline: Two men enter, one man leaves. Only in this case, two men left Destiny and only one returned. And only Eli knew why. He wished that he had shown Lieutenant Scott the entire footage. Instead, he carried the burden of that knowledge alone. Now as Eli sat in the observation room staring at the lights of FTL, he feared what the colonel might do to ensure his silence.

"Eli."

Eli jumped at the colonel's voice behind him. He said nothing when he turned to face his gaze. The colonel's scrapes obtained during the rockslide were bandaged. His eyes were cool beneath the wrapped gauze.

"Do you have my flash drive?" asked the colonel.

Eli nodded. He had deleted the video from the kino and transferred it to the colonel's flash drive just as he had been asked. Everything was a secret these days. He handed the flash drive over.

"I can count on you not to say anything to anyone else?" said the colonel, indicating the flash drive before placing it in his jacket pocket. It was an order phrased as a question.

Again, Eli nodded wordlessly. What else could he do? There was no telling what Young would do if he refused. Besides, who could Eli go to with what he knew? Out here, Young was the final point of justice. He had made that all too clear.

A flicker of a smile crossed the colonel's face so subtly that it could have been a muscle twitch at the corner of his mouth. He nodded and turned to leave.

Despite his every intention of staying silent, the single question on Eli's mind slipped past his filters. "Did you kill him?"

Young hesitated a moment before replying, "You saw the kino footage, Eli. Sergeant Spencer killed himself." He didn't even turn around.

Eli shook his head while keeping his eyes fixed on the back of Young's skull. "I wasn't talking about Spencer." He knew that. Of course, he knew that. The colonel was buying himself time.

Young turned halfway and cocked his head to one side to look at Eli. "There was a rockslide," he said evenly.

"That's what you told everyone, yes," Eli ventured.

Young turned fully to face Eli and took a step forward. Unconsciously, Eli shifted his balance backward. "You're asking me if I lied?" asked the colonel, stating the question, softly, evenly.

"I'm asking if you killed him." Young said nothing. Eli looked to the floor, averting his gaze before he tentatively pushed on, quieter now. "I need to know."

Young shook his head. "No, Eli," and for a moment, Eli thought the colonel wasn't going to answer his question, "I didn't kill him," he said finally.

It had the ring of truth about it. But how much could he believe this new testimony, given that he knew the colonel had lied about the rockslide? "You just left him there," stated Eli hollowly. He'd meant it to be a question, but the phrase didn't come out sounding anything like a question.

The colonel sighed tiredly, placing his hand on the doorframe as he started to turn away a second time. "There was a rockslide," said Young again, sounding more as if he was trying to convince himself than offering an explanation.

Eli's head bobbed slowly up and down as he watched the colonel exit the room. Both men knew he was lying. _Everybody's lying!_ He recalled a past conversation. _Yeah, Eli. Grown-ups do that sometimes._ That had been Rush's response. Look where it had gotten him.

Well, he was a grown-up now. He'd had two choices when he'd discovered the footage, go to Young with what he knew or keep Rush's secret. Both involved lying. Lying about the footage that was there or lying about the footage that wasn't.

Despite his every intention to not choose sides in the conflict between Rush and Young, Eli had been forced to choose. Did he choose right? If he'd chosen Rush's side, he would still be here. He'd probably be with TJ attending to Dr. Franklin's injuries from the chair, or going over databases, trying to learn as much as he could about what had happened. Eli would be at Rush's side, helping any way he could so long as Rush tolerated his presence. Wray would be in command of Destiny. Would it be any better? Rush would still be here. It all came down to that one fact.

That, and Eli wouldn't now be afraid of Colonel Young.

Regardless, it didn't matter anymore. There were no sides anymore. Rush was gone, and it was his fault.


	2. Everett Young

Chapter2: Everett Young

Everett saw the fear in Eli's eyes as he turned away. He ignored the hole Eli's gaze cut through him. He knew he could count on the boy. He had counted on the kid to watch Rush and report his idiosyncrasies to him. Eli had done that job admirably. If Eli hadn't brought forth what he'd discovered about the gun being planted in his quarters, Wray would still be in command. Everett owed Eli for that. He was a good kid, a brilliant kid. He would do whatever Everett ordered him to do. After all, what choice did he have? What choice did any of them have?

Everett had given Rush a choice. He had ensured that they didn't show the second part of the footage to Wray in an effort to give Rush that choice, to make it possible for Rush to come back to a ship where people still respected him (albeit, they didn't show it openly). Showing the footage would only have damaged Rush's ability to command the scientists. If Rush was to do his job, he needed what little respect they still afforded him. But it was up to Rush to help perpetrate the lie that everything was fine. It was Rush's choice. _Are we done?_ Everett had asked him. The sound of Rush's snarling voice haunted him still. _We'll never be done!_ Rush had made his choice there and then. They were the last words of a dying man.

No, he hadn't killed Rush. He had told Eli the truth. But he may as well have shot him. Leaving Rush on a desert planet with only the water in his canteen was a death sentence enough.

But what kind of sentence had he inflicted upon his crew now that Rush was no longer aboard? Would the scientists band together in Rush's absence to continue the work they'd been doing before Rush had practically ordered them to activate the chair? Perhaps that all depended on Dr. Franklin's recovery – _if _he recovered.

Rush had been partially right. _You resigned your position as SG leader because you didn't want to make the hard decisions. The life or death decisions. _That was when it had occurred to him. Leave him behind. Prove him wrong. He didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done for the benefit of the crew. _The end justifies the means._

Or did it? Did that make him as bad as Rush?

Rush had been the single best person for the job at hand, probably the only one aboard who was meant to be here at all. All that knowledge was gone forever and thanks to Rush's choice, they would have to make do without.

It _was_ Rush's choice. He had to believe that, had to hold onto that. Everett had given Rush the opportunity to turn everything around, to accept his command and his authority and come back to Destiny. _Are we done?_ The words echoed again. Instead, Rush had chosen to be a thorn in Everett's side for the last time. _We'll never be done!_ Rush had said. _Well,_ Everett thought, _we are now._

Everett arrived in TJ's makeshift infirmary to check on how Dr. Franklin was doing. He realized as he walked in that the answer he would get from her would be no different from before. Franklin hadn't moved or been moved since he had first been brought in.

TJ moved about the room, straightening and organizing medical supplies. She looked up as he walked in, but her hands remained busy. He knew this frame of mind. She was trying to stay busy, trying not to focus on the fact that, in all likelihood, she would lose her patient. She would fight tooth and nail to save someone if she could. When she couldn't, she felt the loss as deeply as her patient's family. The trait made her an excellent doctor. He hated that she had resigned her position over his stupidity.

He realized he was staring at her and pulled his eyes away toward the motionless Franklin. "How is he?" he asked.

She shook her head. Wisps of blond hair that had fallen from her hair clips hovered about her face like milkweed seeds in a gentle wind. "The same," she answered.

Everett nodded.

"I sent you off to rest," she chided him softly.

"Couldn't sleep," he answered, trying to appear nonchalant. He'd had to get the kino footage from Eli, but TJ didn't need to know that.

A less than comfortable pause passed between them as they stared at Franklin's motionless body rather than at each other. Suddenly TJ turned to look at him. Words tumbled out of her perfect mouth as if she couldn't contain them any longer. "Was there any way -?"

He cut her off, knowing exactly where she was going. "I couldn't save him, TJ," he said, firmly, but softly. "There was no time."

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. Fine wrinkles appeared on her chin as she bit her bottom lip.

Later, he would say he tried to stop himself, told himself it was a bad idea, or a myriad of other excuses. Everett closed the distance between them and gathered TJ into his arms.

She didn't cry. She didn't pull away. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and for just a moment he reveled in the feel of her, the way he used to, the way he never should have.

He looked down at her. She looked up at him. Her eyes were saucers that glistened in Destiny's inset ceiling lamps. There were no tears. No, of course not. She was stronger than that. It was why he lo---

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him got his attention. He pulled away, turning toward the door. Camile Wray stood in the doorway looking very much the way he remembered his seventh grade teacher looking when she caught her students making out in the hallways.

"Miss Wray," he greeted her formally – far more formally than necessary. "What can I do for you?"

"It's about morale. I have concerns."

He smirked, trying to turn it into a congenial smile and only partially succeeded. "Of course," he said. _Of course, you have concerns,_ he thought. _When don't you?_ He turned to TJ, "Let me know the moment there's any change."

"Yes, sir," she responded stiffly. Far too stiffly.

Everett gestured toward the hallway and fell into step beside Wray as she began to speak.


	3. Tamara Johansen

_Author's Note:_

_I know some of you were expecting Wray to be next, but since we have TJ here, we may as well focus on her viewpoint before too much time passes from the moment Young tried to comfort her. Don't worry. We'll meet up with Wray again very shortly._

Chapter 3: Tamara Johansen

TJ waited until Everett and Wray left her makeshift infirmary, mildly surprised that they were speaking civilly to one another. She sat and placed her head in her hands. She wasn't sure why Everett had picked that moment to comfort her. She did know that her emotions were raw and although she'd eventually managed to control her tears in front of him, she very nearly hadn't succeeded.

She listened to her breathing and heart rate return to normal in the silence of the infirmary. It was quiet here, easy to think. Rarely, unless there was a medical emergency, did people burst in on her solitude. The infirmary was the last place anyone wanted to be voluntarily. It was the realm of death and illness, and she was its keeper.

Her emotions were always raw after they'd lost someone. It took time for her to recover. Oh, sure they'd lost people before. Rush was not the first. Nor, she had to admit to herself, would Rush be the last.

Their first loss had been felt deeply since it had been Chloe's father dying while saving the crew. His death had an aura of general awe reserved for those who had died for something they believed was important. But it was still a loss all the same.

The loss of Dr. Andrea Palmer and Master Sergeant Curtis at Destiny's first planet stop had come as something of a surprise, but served as a warning that they must all be aboard Destiny before time ran out. She had thought two lives were enough of a terrible a price to pay for that lesson. They shouldn't have had to lose Rush the same way.

The loss of Corporal Gorman to the alien bugs was tragic. Everett had told her that she had done everything she could but she couldn't make herself believe it. If she _had_ done everything she could, Gorman would still be a member of Destiny's crew today.

The fact that Rush's loss came hard on the heels of Sergeant Spencer's suicide didn't help. Sergeant Spencer's body lay in a body bag on the far side of the room where they'd moved him from the military issued cot she'd set up as her primary medical bed. They'd needed the bed for the, as yet, still living Dr. Franklin. Franklin lay motionless on the cot. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, refusing to stay closed.

Rush had been in this room only once. He seemed to actively avoid entering whenever he had reason to be here. Yet he remained forefront on her mind.

Even when they'd brought in Dr. Franklin after he'd so foolishly placed himself in that damned ancient chair, Rush had set foot in the infirmary only as far as 16 inches. She remembered Rush haunting the doorway, standing in the shadows, trying to see and hear what had happened to Franklin without overtly entering the room or running into Everett. It hadn't helped, of course. They'd ended up in a shouting match in the hallway anyway, as they so often did.

She wondered if the rockslide that Everett had described had killed Rush or simply knocked him unconscious. It was true that there had been very little time left. If there had been a rockslide, as Everett said, there would have been no way to get Rush out and both of them back to Destiny in time.

Still, she wondered. Those two should never have been alone together on a strange planet. There should have been someone else with them.

It dawned on her that the soldiers and scientists who had gone with them had probably been sent back. The only one who could have given the order to return to Destiny was Everett. If he wanted to be alone with Rush, then ….

She didn't want to go down that line of thought. But now that she had started, she found the conclusion so compelling that she couldn't stop. Could she honestly believe that Everett had deliberately left Rush behind? Or worse, had he killed him?

She knew Everett the way no one else did. She saw the strain he had placed on himself over these past months and the way he had slowly changed in these harsh circumstances. She had treated his scrapes when he had returned from the planet where Rush had died. His answers to Camile's questions had never deviated. _There was a rockslide. I couldn't reach him in time._ It was nearly a mantra. She had sent him off for rest, thinking him in mild shock that rest would cure. But that tone of voice sent doubts gnawing at her. She'd heard that tone before. To her who knew him best above anyone else aboard, that tone meant he was hiding something.

What was she thinking? Did she honestly believe him capable of such an act? And if she did, what could be done about it? TJ resigned herself to straightening the supplies again. Nothing could be done. Not for Rush, not for Franklin, not for any of them. Even if Everett was entirely guilty (something she desperately didn't want to believe), nothing could be done. Rush would still be dead in a matter of days at the very most – if he wasn't dead already. They couldn't go back for him. They couldn't do anything for him. Helplessness ate at her soul.

The supplies couldn't be more organized if she tried. She vaguely considered dumping them out on the floor just so her hands could be busy organizing them again. _Ridiculous_, she thought, _pointless_. She went back to watching Franklin's chest rise and fall as he breathed.

Sounds of yelling echoed down the corridor. Destiny's halls seemed to channel all shouting matches in the hallways to her makeshift infirmary. Or maybe she was just sensitive to hearing it. TJ could clearly make out the timber of Everett's voice shouting something indistinguishable. A female voice, probably Wray, was shouting over him, trying to be heard. Failing.

So, the discussion had turned into a shouting match after all.


	4. Camile Wray

Chapter 4: Camile Wray

Camile stormed down the hallways away from the colonel. Or rather, he stormed away from her. She'd continued walking through the halls only after watching him disappear behind a corner in Destiny's corridor. Her meeting with Colonel Young had not gone as well as she had intended. Walking helped her think and, after her meeting with Young, she desperately needed to think.

Morale _was_ an issue. Why couldn't Young see that? With Rush's death, they had lost much more than a life. They'd lost a sense of hope. He seemed to think that as soon as he took command again, everything would return to normal.

He was wrong. It was infuriating.

At least she knew exactly the lay of the land now. Rush and Young were always going at it. _Caught between them, not sure which camp is the better choice._ With Rush's death, that was no longer the case. _Maybe it's time you started your own_.

Based on that advice, she'd started her own camp several weeks ago. She'd almost succeeded thanks to the trial. But she'd been fair when new evidence came to light. Perhaps too fair. _Obviously, we need to rethink our situation. _Young had jumped at the opportunity to throw her command in her face. _I'm not asking permission, I'm telling you._

With Rush gone, Camile intended to move into Rush's political vacuum and put more pressure on Young, somehow get him to step aside. Where Rush had failed through annoying the crap out of Young, she would succeed through more patient measures. She had connections back home. Perhaps through those, she could manipulate the situation in a way Rush never could have.

Although she hated to say it, politically, Rush's death was a dream come true. She knew she could do a better job commanding than Rush could have done. She could certainly do better than Young was doing. Young couldn't even see the possibility of all out warfare between the military and the civilians. Someone had to stick up for the underdogs. With Rush out of the picture, that someone was her, and she intended to pour everything she had at the situation.

She still had to address the problem of morale. She still had to address how to get _her_ crew home. If she could figure that out, she'd get more buy-in from the crew than she'd had following the result of the trial. More crew buy-in meant she would secure her position as Destiny's commander.

She would have to be careful. Making political bonds that changed the face of active situations took time. Time she'd have to spend on Earth via the communications stones. Every trip she'd take to Earth would be monitored, reported, catalogued. Young could know every step she made. She would have to be very careful.

She'd start with the fissure Rush's loss had left in the crew's morale. If she befriended the crew while they were feeling low, they'd stick with her when it came down to the line. Make no mistake. It _would_ come down to the line. Young would not give up his command easily. He'd proven that already.

The crew needed someone to look to now that Rush was gone. Eli was a good choice. Everyone loved him. Plus, he was the reason Rush was able to make the ninth chevron work. Eli's own style of genius would get the crew to pay attention when he spoke. The situation was complicated by the fact that Eli had pretty firmly allied himself with Young. Eli was the reason she'd lost her command to begin with. But he was a reasonable kid. Maybe she could make him see her point of view, get him to help her turn the tides. He was close to the colonel. That could come in handy.

She'd had a feeling that Rush had tried using Eli similarly, perhaps with little effect. But then, Rush's people skills had been lacking at the best of times. She wasn't even sure how the kid had been able to stand hours with Rush in the same room. That proved he was patient.

Yes, Eli would work well for her purposes.

Camile's pace slowed as she saw Sergeant Greer turn the corner further down the hall. He walked, as most of the military officers walked, with his chest proudly displaying his uniform. She inwardly snarled. Greer was the last person she wanted to see while her anger at Young was flaring.

He'd seen her too and hesitated as he came around the corner. They stood at opposite ends of the hall watching each other like two gun fighters from an old spaghetti Western film.

She needed to get past him and he needed to get past her. Obviously, neither one of them would turn around. They would have to pass each other. Seemingly, both had the same thought at the same time. They both moved forward.

"Ma'am," said Greer cautiously as he passed her. She hated it when he called her that. It made her feel old.

"Don't give me that 'Ma'am,' crap, Sergeant," she said.

He just couldn't resist twisting the knife. "Yes, Ma'am," he said and turned to continue down the hall. She watched him try to hide the grin that started to peek out at the corners of his mouth.

"You think you're funny, don't you?" she asked. He'd decided to antagonize her, so she wasn't going to allow him to leave without a fight.

Greer stopped walking but did not turn around. He folded his arms behind his back. "What will it take to make peace with you, Ma'am?" he asked.

Wray hesitated. She must have paused longer than she thought. Greer swiveled his head around to look at her as if to check to see if she was still there. "I'm not sure peace is possible," she said at last.

"Well, then," said Greer so quietly his voice was barely above a whisper. She had to strain to hear him. "We have a problem."

"Yes, we do," she agreed.

What the hell? Did she just agree with him?


	5. Ronald Greer

Chapter 5: Ronald Greer

_Well, look at that,_ Greer thought. _An agreement._ He didn't let it register on his face as he turned away and left Wray standing in the hallway. After all, he had his duties.

He hadn't expected to run into Wray in the hallway. The universe seemed to have no intention of giving him a break. He shook off her glare as he rounded the corner away from Wray. For barely above five foot tall, she had a way of glaring that not only made her seem equal to his six foot height, but it stuck with him.

Greer was scheduled to take over for Airman Becker. Young had ordered a 24-hour watch placed on the room with the chair. He wasn't looking forward to it. He'd been the first one to secure the room and had taken the first shift guarding the door. He knew that behind that currently locked door, Dr. Franklin's dried blood remained on the neural screws. That room gave him the creeps.

Since being removed from the away mission duty roster, guard duty seemed to be all that was left open to him. Technically, Wray was in command until tomorrow morning. He was glad it wasn't longer. That bitch would do anything to punish him for mistakes made a universe away. Not that he was sorry for what he'd done. He wasn't.

The first thing Wray would do if she were in total command would probably be to lock him away permanently, just as Colonel Telford had done when he'd taken command of Destiny through the use of the communication stones and the colonel's body.

Greer was glad to know that at least the colonel would be back in charge before too long, glad the colonel had made it back from that hellhole of a planet. He could imagine life with Wray in charge, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

As it was, there would be very little to do aboard the ship until they dropped out of FTL again. Greer had spent his time working with Dr. Rush in an attempt to explore Destiny's numerous corridors. Without Dr. Rush driving them all to push the boundaries of what they knew, it was possible that the rest of Destiny's uncharted halls would remain so.

Greer wouldn't go so far as to say Dr. Rush had been a friend, but he had been a good colleague. It had been good to see someone with a sense of authority outside the military. None of the other scientists showed anything like guts the way Rush had. They were a bunch of spineless, whiny, bumps on logs. Greer had no time for them. Rush had been different, unique.

Greer didn't follow orders from people who didn't take charge. He probably wouldn't have pulled that trigger to stop Dr. Franklin from going through the gate with the remote dialer if Dr. Rush hadn't ordered it. Rush had quickly considered the situation and arrived at the conclusion that they would have to stop Dr. Franklin by force. Greer probably would have come to the same decision if it had been down to him. But he wasn't as quick-witted as Rush had been. It would have taken too long. He would have reacted too late. Thanks to Rush's judgment, quick reaction, and willingness to be in command, they hadn't been stuck on that desert planet.

Rush might not have known it, but he'd earned Greer's respect that day.

Maybe that same authority that Greer so respected is what drove the colonel so crazy. What Dr. Rush didn't like, he changed through sheer force of will. Greer had liked that about the man. He'd shared that viewpoint most of the time. And most of the time, it got him in trouble, just like it got Rush into trouble.

He hadn't liked the fact that Rush and the colonel were constantly going at it. But it wasn't his problem. His commanding officer was Young and he'd follow the colonel's commands so long as he was in charge. Sadly, that didn't seem to be as solid a case as it should have been. Greer didn't like change. He liked Wray even less. He hoped to God that he'd never have to deal with her in command again.

Things were brewing between the colonel and Wray. It was hard to miss it. He knew exactly whose side he'd be on, and it wouldn't be pretty for the civilians without guns. He was a soldier, a warrior. He'd do his duty if he was so ordered. He had no qualms about it.

It would have been interesting to see what Rush would have said about all this. He'd probably have something insulting to say about both Young and Wray. Greer smirked despite himself.

Dr. Rush had almost felt like a kindred spirit. Sure, one of them was military and the other scientific, but it seemed they'd somehow found a way to bridge the gap. They'd had an understanding. Now Greer was alone. It was going to take some getting used to.

It was normal in the life of a soldier to lose comrades from time to time. It was even more normal within the confines of the Stargate program. But Dr. Rush had seemed such an ornery creature that he wouldn't let the universe take him out of the equation if he'd had anything to say about it. Apparently, even the great Dr. Rush was no match for fate.

He saw Airman Becker standing at his post, a rifle in his hand. Greer sighed as he received Becker's rifle and took his place in front of the door that concealed the dentist chair of death.

From his post, Greer watched the comings and goings of the ship. It was quiet. He liked that. It gave him time to think. The only person he saw during his shift was Lieutenant Scott making his daily jog through Destiny's corridors. Greer nodded once, military style, as the lieutenant jogged past his post.


	6. Matthew Scott

_Author's Note:_

_Seems my reviews have trickled off. I hope people are still reading. I have 4 more chapters to upload before I run out of pre-written material (and main characters). Please bear with me. Thanks so much to those who have already contributed._

Chapter 6: Matthew Scott

The corridors Matt jogged down were far more deserted than they usually were. Moreover, they were eerily quiet. He regretted that his iPod had not made it with him aboard Destiny. He'd borrow Chloe's but her taste in music was far different than his. The only sound was his boots on the bulkheads and his own even breathing.

Usually, exercising had a way of putting life and problems on hold. Normally, he didn't think about things while he was actively working out. This time, things were different.

Everyone on board was thinking about Rush. Despite himself, he was one of them.

As much as they couldn't stand Rush's acerbic personality, he had been their best hope of getting home. Now that that hope was gone, everyone seemed subdued.

The scientists had ceased their endless prying through the ship's systems on Colonel Young's order after the Franklin incident. But they weren't truly anxious to get back to work either. The combination of their scientific leader's death and Franklin's injury had taken them all completely aback.

The military officers who were no longer escorting the scientists about Destiny's corridors were not in the mood to do much of anything besides sit in the mess hall and chat at each other in conversations filled with pregnant pauses.

No one knew what to do.

Matt thought back to the footage Eli had shown him. He had been so pleased to find the evidence that would put Colonel Young back in command that he had immediately called the colonel the second he watched Spencer shoot himself. He'd never been so pleased to watch someone commit suicide in his life.

He wished they could have figured out who had taken the gun and tried to frame the colonel. He wished the kino footage hadn't been damaged beyond repair. If anyone could have repaired the footage, Eli could. Apparently, some things were beyond even the genius Math Boy's scope. Chances were, having gotten away with this, that same someone who tried to frame the colonel would try it again if given the chance. Or worse, he would come directly after Young without pretense for cloak and dagger.

He wondered who it could have been. Who would have been closest to Spencer's quarters at the time of the shooting? Given that Spencer's chosen quarters were so far from the other crew, it was difficult to figure out why anyone would have been in the area at all.

Obviously, everyone with alibis was safe from suspicion. Those without alibis would have to be watched more carefully. Not actively, of course, just in a keep-an-eye-out kind of way. Maybe he could enlist Eli's help with his kinos. Maybe they could cross-reference who could delete the kino footage with who didn't have alibis.

Now, _that_ was a good idea. He'd have to run that past Eli. Math Boy would have to help him with the cross-referencing. Matt glanced at his watch. Tomorrow, maybe. Too late to mess with it tonight. Whoever had framed the colonel wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

With the death of Rush, none of them were going anywhere soon. Certainly not home.

Matt slowed to a walk as he reached Chloe's room. He reached the open doorway in time to see the first of Chloe's tears dampen her cheeks. He stopped. She hadn't seen him. He hesitated, unsure whether to continue or leave her to think. It was obvious her thoughts were a trillion light years away. Of course, on this ship, that wasn't too difficult. All you had to do was think of home.

"Hey," he said, deciding to enter the room.

Chloe wiped away her tears. "Hey," she responded in kind. "You've been running," she said, noting the sweat pouring off him.

He smiled at her statement of the obvious and sat on her bed beside her. "Yeah," he said. "Thought you might want to come with me. Clear your mind. The halls are pretty open. Plenty of space for two runners," he offered.

She shook her head. "Not in the mood."

"Come on!" said Matt. She shook her head again. "What is it?" he asked, wondering if he'd stumbled on yet another girl danger zone where the guy has no idea he's in trouble until it's too late.

She sniffled. "We're not going to get home, Matt. Not anymore!" she whined.

So she _was_ thinking about home. He couldn't say he was surprised. "We will," he said, reasons why failed him, "just, you know, not anytime soon."

That was apparently not the thing to say. She burst into tears again. "How could the universe do this to us? Why did a freak rockslide have to take away our only hope of getting home? Of me seeing my mom again? The _real_ me! Not some body I'm using through those idiotic stones! Why wasn't someone there to help him?"

"The colonel did all he could," Matt told her gently and believed it. He swept away the hair plastered to her cheek with tears. "He just couldn't get to him in time."

Chloe seemed to attempt to stop crying. "I know," she said.

"You _are_ glad the colonel made it back aren't you?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Of course! And I'm glad he got his command back. I was such a poor defense lawyer. I wish he'd never asked me."

"Hey," Matt turned her head by her chin so she would look him in the eye. "You did your best."

"But I wish Rush had come back," she whined.

"I thought you hated Rush," Matt said absently.

She laughed and it came out as a choked sob. "Me too." He put his arm around her and held her for a moment before she pushed him away. "You're all sweaty!" she said through her tears.

"Fine," said Matt, standing. "I'll go take a shower and change and we'll go get dinner in the mess hall. 'Kay?"

She nodded and smiled up at him through her tears. The light from FTL reflected off her tearstained cheeks. She was so beautiful. "It's a date," she said.

He grinned at her. "Well, if it's a date, I'll make sure to put on my best and only other set of clothes."

She smiled weakly at the joke. Well, okay, it wasn't that good anyway.


	7. Chloe Armstrong

_Author's Note:_

_My sincerest apologies for the delay on uploading the next chapter of this story. Things got a little crazy IRL. Thanks for the reviews! You guys are great. I'll continue my every-other-day posting from here._

Chapter 7: Chloe Armstrong

There was an emptiness in Chloe's chest, just beneath her breastbone as she watched Matt leave. He was a good guy, trying to cheer her up even though it was completely beyond hope.

If only her mother could get the chance to meet him. That fantasy seemed even more distant since the moment the rumor had run through the ship that Rush had died on that damned planet.

She hadn't expected to feel this way about Rush. From the moment her father had died, she had blamed Dr. Rush for everything that had gone wrong. Those feelings had only intensified when he had suggested that the colonel leave her Matt on that desolate ice world. _What the Hell is wrong with you? _She remembered shouting at him. She'd had angry dreams of killing him herself for that offense – not that she would have actually followed through on them.

But now, Rush was gone and everything was just as bad as it had been before, maybe worse. Despite everything, she found she missed him. He had been right about so many things, saving their lives without the slightest request for gratitude. She had to admit to herself that he was probably just saving his own life. The fact that he was saving their lives too was an added bonus, a side effect. But it was easier to think of him in a softer light now that he was gone. Besides, she'd been raised to speak well of the dead.

There was so much unknown. They were suddenly without their greatest hope of getting home. Everything seemed so desolate, so very wrong.

Tears started to cascade down her cheeks again. They were going to die out here.

She had seen the colonel in passing after he'd come through the event horizon of the stargate alone. He had seemed just as stunned by the situation as they all were. Surely, he must have tried to save Rush despite their differences. Maybe he wasn't fully healed from his injuries sustained when they all ended up aboard Destiny. Some injuries like those never heal without proper medical attention. They were far from proper medicine out here. Oh, TJ did her best, but she was always the first to admit her shortcomings.

Matt was right. The corridors were silent. Everyone aboard seemed subdued, as if the gravity of the situation was only just seeping through. They had been children, looking to the one qualified person on this ship to get them home. Now that he was gone, they were going to have to grow up and get themselves home. She was a fool to think they could do it without him.

She suddenly felt very alone in her quarters and regretted that she'd practically sent Matt away. She got up, knowing he'd be in the shower room. She'd meet him there. Then he wouldn't have to come a roundabout way to the cafeteria just to pick her up for their 'date.'

She grabbed her jacket from the edge of the bed where she'd tossed it after hearing the news. She was always cold aboard this ship. Space was cold. It matched the emptiness she felt inside now that she had no one to blame.

A pang of regret hit her so hard she stopped stone still in the doorway before leaving her quarters. She clutched the doorframe to brace against the powerfulness of the sensation. She should have treated Rush better than she had. She had been so mean to him. He had deserved it, even asked for it sometimes by the way he'd acted. But she should have tried to be more kind to him. It was so easy to hate him, to let him be her outlet for her pent up rage at everything that had happened. She'd done it without thinking. She regretted it.

Chloe forced herself to release the doorframe and leave the isolation of her quarters. She needed people right now. She needed family. Matt was the closest thing she had to family on board. Eli was the next closest. He was like a brother to her – although she couldn't decide if he were her older or younger brother. It depended on the moment, she supposed. If he were being Math Boy, he was older. He was a genius when he was working with computer codes, mathematical equations, and everything that came with using Destiny's systems. When he wasn't working, he was so upbeat, so naïve, so youthful. Just Eli was definitely a younger brother.

Oh, God. Eli. How was he handling this? Rush had practically been his tutor. They had been inseparable since he'd arrived on Icarus. She'd have to check on him. He was probably feeling lost right about now, definitely the younger brother this time.

Later. Matt came first. She came first. She couldn't comfort a younger brother without first feeling comforted herself. Despite everything, Matt made her feel like their incarceration aboard this damned ship was a blessing in disguise. After all, she'd found love without even looking for it.

Lighter hearted than before, her pace through Destiny's corridors increased. She smiled wanly as she passed Vanessa James in the hall. She glanced at Chloe, nodded once in the military style, but made no attempt to return her strained smile. She realized then, that this was going to be a hard couple of weeks while the crew adjusted to Rush's absence. They _would_ adjust, though. They _would_ get through this. They _would_ find a way home, even without Rush. They had to.


	8. Vanessa James

_Author's Note:_

_Thanks for the reviews! This has been a great project. It's been fun to delve into the mindsets and POVs of so many characters - and Universe has some really interesting characters. I've got ideas for new chapters featuring some of the supporting characters, I'll try to sit down over the next few days to put those ideas into words._

Chapter 8: Vanessa James

Vanessa passed Chloe with a mix of emotions. First and foremost came sorrow and jealousy at having lost Lieutenant Scott to a younger, prettier (she had to admit) woman. But Chloe was kind, too. Despite everything, Vanessa couldn't hate her, couldn't begrudge her. She could only mourn her own loss. Chloe had made an attempt to smile at her as they passed. Vanessa wished she had that energy. She could only nod to Chloe in acknowledgement. Everything about the past few days had stripped Vanessa of her energy to do anything more.

Sergeant Spencer had been an ass. Everyone thought so. But he had still been one of their own and she couldn't help but feel his loss. Suicide was no way to go, wasn't one she wished for herself. Suicide was too much like giving up, telling the universe it had won. She couldn't do that. She was a fighter. She was a survivor.

Dr. Rush had been a survivor, too. Sure, he was abrasive at the best of times, but he had never been callous to her. He gave himself so completely to the mission that he would forget his own needs if those closer to him weren't keeping an eye out for him. What wasn't to like about that? It was a very military mindset. She could admire that, even in a scientist. She felt his loss deeper than Spencer's. Spencer hadn't done a damn thing but piss people off. Rush had helped them, saved their lives so often she'd lost count. He'd done it all without hope of gratitude. Because he didn't ask for gratitude, he got it from her.

She'd never had the chance to tell him. She'd never been that close to him. He'd always been focused on the latest mission, the latest scientific find, the latest iota of information that would bring them closer to getting home. She'd given him his space. It was the only thing he'd ever asked for in return for his unfailing service. She granted it gladly, not because she wanted to be away from him, but because he wanted it.

She replayed the last moments on that planet in her head. _Lieutenant, let's pack it up, _Colonel Young had said. _Yes, sir. _She had followed his order without question, as any good soldier would do. The scientists had been ordered to follow shortly after them. Dr. Volker had the remote dialing device so she and Airman Rennie had taken up stations on either side of the giant ring until they met them there.

_Colonel says we're to go back to the Destiny,_ Volker had said.

_What? Leave those two here alone?_ She had asked.

Volker had shrugged. _That's what he said._ She stared at him in disbelief. _Rush said he needed a few moments,_ Volker had said. He had moved to begin dialing the gate address for Destiny.

She'd placed her hand on top of the remote dialer, preventing Volker from pressing a single button on the pad. _We can't leave them!_

_You want to get stuck here? _he'd asked.

_You want _them_ to get stuck here?_ she'd responded.

Volker had hesitated at that. _Look, the gate will remain open until they're through, we shut it down, or Destiny leaves. If they're going to make it, they'll make it. If not, well …_

_If it was a direct order, we'd be court marshaled for disobeying, _Airman Rennie had pointed out.

_We'd have to get back to Earth first, s_he'd said with disdain.

_Or Colonel Young will start another trial like we just had, _Dr. Caine had muttered while staring with dismay at his shoes.

That had caused her to hesitate and rethink her position. The trial of her commanding officer had been one of the most draining things she'd experienced over the past week. Given how much had happened, that was saying a lot. Not knowing who to report to or who to trust was exhausting. She'd been grateful when that ordeal was over. The idea of being in the hot seat was not a welcome thought.

_Dial it up,_ she'd ordered Volker. He had.

When neither Colonel Young nor Dr. Rush came through the shining event horizon, she'd doubted her decision. _We shouldn't have left them!_ She'd said, glaring with wide eyes at Dr. Volker. _What? So we could get stuck there too?_ He'd retorted. _No one is getting stuck there,_ Lieutenant Scott's clear voice allowed her to focus for a moment. _Not yet._ Panic had risen inside her as she'd nervously glanced between ticking clock and event horizon. She'd held it down through practiced control drilled into her through years of air force training.

When at last, the colonel had emerged from the shining pool, she'd relaxed, grateful that her commanding officer had made it out alive. She hadn't failed in her duty after all.

It had taken her longer than it should have to see that he was injured and only until Wray had asked _Where's Rush?_ Did she realize Dr. Rush was not emerging behind him.

_He didn't make it_, he'd murmured, passing through the crowd of onlookers as they cleared his path. The gate shut off. The ship entered FTL. Rush was gone.

It was so sudden. Anger, to anxious, to relief, to stunned hopelessness all happened in the space of thirty seconds. Looking back on it, she'd rather have risked a court marshal than lose Rush to a damned rockslide.

Vanessa entered the mess hall at last. She hesitated in the doorway, gazing about the room. It was far too crowded for her liking. Crewmates and their myriad of high-strung, raw emotions filled the smallish space. She wouldn't be staying here to eat. Conversation was at a minimum even despite the number of people. Doctors Volker and Caine were playing cards on one side of the room. Abandoned bowls of mashed alien not-so-sweet potatoes sat at their sides. Volker looked up as she entered the room. She met his gaze and shared his wordless sense of loss before pulling her gaze away to get some dinner.


End file.
